


Thirty-Three Shades of Ice

by Loki Laufeyson (KingLoki)



Series: 33 Shades Verse [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Bastardisation of myth, Clever!Darcy, F/M, Jotunn!Loki, Liberties taken with Earth history, Mostly proper Norse spellings because why not, Some age swap because reasons, super slow burn, tasertricks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLoki/pseuds/Loki%20Laufeyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another reality, similar to the one we know, Loki had a stable and fairly content home life. The crown prince of Jötunheimr has many trials to face, but the one he least expected came in the form of the sassy-mouthed Darcy Lewis. [Rated for future chapters.]</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Temporary hiatus; will likely be updated in the summer of 2017.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a [prompt](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12950.html?thread=31564182#t31564182) over at norsekink on LJ. I’ve got a big chunk of the story already planned, but I’m hoping you wonderful readers will let me know if you like where it’s going or otherwise, so I can tweak here and there as needed. I’ll do my very best to reply to any comments/questions I get, although with summer courses and an upcoming 10-day summer holiday then fall classes starting, I might be scattered. Thanks for reading!

The palace was decked out in varying shades of greens and blues; it reminded Darcy of an aquatic theme she once had in her bedroom as a kid. Lights shone like heavenly beams breaking through the clouds, bringing out the dark honey highlights in her hair. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.  
  
“You’ve got this, Darce,” she said to herself, sucking in a few more deep breaths for good measure. Her shaky hands ran down the soft crushed velvet of her bodice. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself lying in a sea of soft velvet, the scent of ocean waves taking her out to the middle of the water where she could hear nothing but sea birds and smell the briny air. A small smile found her lips and relaxed her pulse.  
  
“My Lady,” came a soft, tinkling voice.  
  
She turned to acknowledge the young handmaiden, another calming breath followed by a bigger smile, prompting Alví to smile in return. “You should not worry; your groom will be enchanted the moment he lays eyes on you. Now come, we must make our way out.”  
  
Nodding and giving herself a pep talk under her breath, Darcy hitched the front of her gown up as Alví brought up the rear.  
  
Their footsteps echoed almost magically through the cool blue corridors. Barely a sound could be heard except for the rhythmic _clik-clak_ on the marble floors, and Darcy’s occasional mutterings to herself.  
  
The tall handmaid behind her shook her head in fond exasperation. She had gotten to know the Midgardian well, but her quirks were constantly intriguing her nonetheless. Despite her being slightly strange in their eyes, the Jötunn society welcomed Darcy with open arms. Her diplomatic skills had grown considerably in the last year; indeed, without her tempering words, Svartálfaheimr would now be at war with them. For now, thanks to the clever mortal, their secret was kept safe.  
  
“Remember your lessons, My Lady.”  
  
Darcy stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder. “You mean the twenty-nine gruelling hours of wedding etiquette? Oh my god, no thank you. I just wanna get this over with. Please Alví, quit torturing me. _Are we there yet_?”  
  
Her childish whine pulled a laugh from the tall handmaiden. “Yes, we are nearly there. Just through this doorway and you will need to pause. Your escort will join you and I shall await you at the fore of the hall.” She ran her cobalt blue fingers affectionately across Darcy’s shoulders, ending in a squeeze. “You will do well, I am sure of it. Simply recall who awaits you at the end.”  
  
That evoked a smile that lit up Darcy’s eyes. She nodded nervously and turned face-forward. Her shoulders lifted and dropped, then she was ready. Another few steps and she paused as she felt more than heard Alví depart and another come up beside her.  
  
“Reginn,” she practically sighed. Beaming at the tall Jötunn to her right, she lifted her hand to rest in the crook of his proffered arm.  
  
“Lady Darcy, you look stunning. Are you ready?” His warm carmine eyes gave her the strength she needed, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Then let us commence.”  
  
A hush fell over the grand hall as the heavy doors opened, revealing the bride in brilliant gradients of green, which gradually darkened as her gown swept the floor. Awed whispers and silent smiles of encouragement greeted Darcy as a lilting tune filled the hall. Chimes and strings announced her procession, ending in a soft crescendo when she reached the halfway point.  
  
Synchronous voices started a chant in a foreign tongue. The guests all rose to show their respects as the royal family entered from the front and took their places beside the altar.  
  
Darcy kept her face down as custom demanded. Humility should be maintained at all times as the consort of the crown prince, but soon enough, she would be taking on a whole new set of responsibilities.  
  
Her heart rate sped up a little. Reginn felt her tense and slowed his pace minutely, silently sending her his strength. She concentrated on the voices that sounded like the angels her dad always told her about. A little smile curled her lips upward and she felt more confident.  
  
As they approached the base of the elegantly carved steps, Darcy raised her face to be greeted by Alví’s smile. She’d never seen the girl so genuinely happy. Her slippered foot slid over the first step. The next thirty-three passed by in a blur of colours and sounds. Before she knew it, King Laufey and Queen Fárbauti filled her vision and she stopped before the altar. The high priest raised his arms to call for silence.  
  
Holding his hands out in her direction and to her right, he brought his palms close and Darcy turned to face _him_.  
  
Loki, his expression blank to others, looked almost as nervous as she felt. The barest of smiles appeared before disappearing as the priest sung a prayer before all in attendance. She couldn’t understand it anyway, but at the back of her mind she still remembered the translations she was taught. She focused on Loki and gradually drifted just a little closer. When the priest clapped his hands, she jumped and caught Loki’s smirk from the corner of her eye.  
  
“Those who have come to witness this union,” the priest continued in richly accented English, “shall now send silent prayers to the higher gods, that these two people be blessed for all of eternity.” He produced a pure white strip of silk-like fabric that almost rippled in the beams of light. Darcy put her right hand out while Loki put his left out, their hands almost touching. The high priest began another series of sung prayers, accompanied by the same eerie voices as before. She knew there was a choir, but she’d never actually seen them. Were they all children? Their voices were so ethereal —  
  
A bright, pulsing warmth originated in the centre of the fabric and she stared unabashedly. This hadn’t been in those lessons. Flitting a nervous look above her, Queen Fárbauti nodded once and she felt herself relax, if only a little. _Okay_ , she thought to herself, _this is fine. It’s just a funky magic… pulsing… **thing**. It probably won’t eat me._  
  
As the priest drew the cloth around hers and Loki’s hands, she wasn’t as confident; the warmth travelled up her arm and she sucked in a breath at the jolt in her stomach.  
  
“Before this congregation, I ask you both: Loki Laufeyson, Crown Prince of Jötunheimr and Commander of the Jötunn Fleet. Do you, with all of your might and force of will, bind yourself willingly and eternally to this Midgardian woman?”  
  
Loki’s hand formed a loose fist and he looked at Darcy beside her. “By the eyes of the heavens, I do, irrevocably.”  
  
A brighter pulse of light grew between their hands and stood steady, waiting for the priest to continue.  
  
“And do you, Darcy Lewis of Midgard, Ambassador between the Peoples of Jötunheimr and Midgard, with all of your mortal force of will, bind yourself willingly and eternally to this Jötunn man?”  
  
Darcy felt her heart stutter. Her hand started trembling, but was steadied by the hand now gripping hers. She looked up into Loki’s face and smiled despite herself. “As the gods are my witness,” she recited, voice starting out shaky but growing steadier, “I do, completely.”  
  
Another bright light joined the one in the centre and enveloped them both. A fuzzy feeling took over her mind for what felt like days, but then it began to fade and she was left sighing with her eyes closed.  
  
—  
  
“Onward, my friends!”  
  
A rumbling sound followed the shouting beyond the grand doors of the hall. Darcy snapped out of her euphoric moment with a distinctly unladylike string of curse words. It was like falling out of bed in the middle of a wet dream, and if she got her hands on that idiot shouting —  
  
The hall erupted in a flurry of sounds. A harsh crunch and creak brought the massive doors down. Four figures emerged with weapons aloft and a metallic _zing_ passed just feet from Darcy. With wide eyes, she shouted for Loki who was already pulling out his daggers, flanked by Laufey whose spear gleamed menacingly under the bright rays of the ceiling.  
  
“Son of Odin!” the king shouted loud enough to shake the walls. The four warriors beside Thor pulled back from their fighting stances and surrounded Thor in a protective semi-circle.  
  
The giant brute Laufey had addressed practically snarled as his stupidly big hammer came _thunking_ back into his grip.  
  
“I shall see you pay for your treachery, Laufey!” he growled. His large stride left indented footsteps thudding into the floor as he headed for Laufey with looks to kill.  
  
The Frost Giant King bared his teeth and shot his arm out in front of Loki, stopping his son before he could leap out to meet the blond meat block. _Just my damn luck_ , Darcy cursed to herself, _stupid roid-jock ruining my wedding like he owns the place._  
  
She hurried as fast as her slippers and gown would allow her, meeting Loki at his side and clasping his hand tightly. “I swear if you get pancaked before we can fuck like rabbits, I’m gonna be seriously pissed,” she hissed into his ear. Loki barked a laugh and pulled her close, daggers hovering before him withheld only by a thin shred of magical restraint.  
  
“What do you accuse my father of, Æsir?” Loki asked with a sneer.  
  
Thor drew himself up and gripped his hammer tightly in his right hand. “Conspiring to bring ruin to Asgard and its people. Jötunn assassins were caught on our borders, with orders to bring back Baldr’s head. I’ve come to inform you of Odin’s decree!” He canted his head and Sif placed a roll of parchment in his hand. “You are to be incarcerated and interrogated as to your part in this act of war,” Thor read, his blazing blue eyes meeting the calm ones of Laufey. _Too_ calm, in fact.  
  
“I will bring you by force, if necessary.” Thor’s final sentence boomed through the hall, even as Jötunn warriors filed in and stood attentively, watching their King’s every move. Laufey approached as calm as a snake, its rattles safely tucked behind its body where the prey would be none the wary. Darcy could feel the contempt oozing off of him as she watched him stalk forward. The muscles of his neck tightened and strained, but his tone was complacent.  
  
“Will you, Son of Odin? That is not entirely necessary. As you see, you have barged in on a most important event.” His arm swept out beside him, indicating the decorated hall. Thor quickly looked around and a small trace of a question began to cloud his face. “Agree to take this out of these halls, and I shall consider the All-Father’s proposal.”  
  
Oh, he was _mad_. Darcy internally cheered for the Frost Giant and pulled Loki’s arm closer in her coiled excitement. She knew, she just _knew_ something horrible would be coming. Laufey would never leave his kingdom so willingly. She never entirely got along with the Jötunn, but she respected his commanding presence regardless. Let this idiot Thor dude take that in stride. She saw his jaw clench as she peered around the hulking form of her almost-father-in-law. _Well, maybe he already is. I mean, that light show thing in my head…_  
  
“We have an accord.” Thor’s cohort dropped a fraction of their defensive postures, but still held their respective weapons at their sides. The fat bearded one looked like he wanted to grin, but he plastered a stern look on his face instead.  
  
Laufey’s slow steps echoed as Thor’s had, but with a more sure force and trace of elegance Darcy couldn’t ever figure out. He looked to his wife, who joined him. Her skirts rustled the crystal flowers hanging from invisible strings anchored into the ceiling. The gentle tinkling of their disturbed petals set a new chain of events into motion.  
  
Before she knew it, Darcy was being pushed back and Loki’s silver dagger flew head-on towards Thor. The Frost Giant guards flew into action: swords and battle-axes were drawn, coming down on each side of Thor’s party as the warriors and warrioress cried their indignation. Loki gripped Darcy’s hand tightly. She was protesting the rough hold, shouting, “Oh my god, Loki, we have to grab your parents!”  
  
A shock of white blinded her and she found herself ensconced in green mist, appearing a moment later on the edge of a barren cave, with no one to be seen for miles.  
  
 _Shit!!_ she mentally raged and let loose a frustrated scream that echoed across the icy, deserted landscape.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the backwards time jump, but you’ll appreciate the backstory, trust me!

_Two Years Earlier…_

> From: Culver University Registration Department <reg@culver-u.edu>  
>  To: Miss Darcy Lewis <darce4prez@hotmail.com>  
>  Subj: Re: Missing Three Credits  
>   
>  Dear Miss Lewis,
> 
> We have received your queries and have looked into the matter. It seems that there was possibly a system glitch and your three credits are not registering on your transcript. This could be due to several things: a deeper system error that our Administrators have yet to track down, failure to fulfil the requirements as stipulated by your last course's syllabus, or too many missed class days that registered as a passive Withdrawal. In any of these cases, our office suggests that you consult with your Advisor regarding possible errors on your side, while we escalate this issue to the Dean of Political Science.
> 
> Thank you for contacting our office. If you have further questions, reply to this e-mail or dial x3324 from any campus telephone.
> 
> Have a wonderful day,
> 
> Janet Weiss  
>  Registration Clerk  
>  Main Campus, Bowen Building, Room 1A

A wisp of dark hair blew forward on a forceful exhale as Darcy dropped her head onto her arms.

"This is just my fucking luck," she muttered into the desk.

From across the dorm room, Jane piped up in a distracted tone, "Maybe you should just do an internship abroad so you don't have to worry about those credits anymore."

She really wanted to reply in a snarky tone, but the words died on the tip of her tongue. Well. It _was_ an idea. If she ever hoped to graduate in May, she just had to take things into her own hands. Sure, it'd rack up another 15G; sure, the only trip left was probably on some weird island in the middle of the Arctic; and sure, that meant leaving the comforts of her dorm, and Pop-Tarts, and maybe, _gasp_ , her iPod. Still. Looking at it from an adult point of view, it was probably the only way she could hope to graduate. Registration took as much time as a turtle trying to take a speed shit between commercial breaks.

"Ugh." Dropping her forehead back to the desk, there was a dull _thud_ this time. "Fuck my life."

—

"But Mr Bronzo!"

The man shook his head and raised a hand. "Save it, Lewis. I already told you it's the best I could do. The next semester is starting in Four. Weeks. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good."

Sighing and banging her head on things seemed to be turning into a habit lately.

"Fine," came the muttered word after a beat. Lifting her drawn face to look back at her advisor, Darcy sucked it up and glanced from the man to the paperwork on his desk. "After this, I swear if I don't get the best damn senior review, I'm gonna flip like a hormonal chick on the rag. Blood will be spilt."

Mr Bronzo suppressed a smile at that. "I'm sure. Now fill this stuff out and bring it to my office by tomorrow at noon. Not 3pm or 11:59:59pm. Noon. Or you're stuck here until next Winter semester."

With that, Darcy gathered everything she needed and headed back towards the campus dorms. Taking the long way back seemed like a good idea. It was cold as Jack Frost's asscrack out that day, but she needed to get out of her own head for a bit.

Walking around in the middle of December weather made a whole lot of sense at the time.

—

_Ah-ah —_

Veronica brought Darcy a cup of chicken soup between sneezes —

_CHOO!_

And wiped her hand off on the cool towel hanging from her arm seconds later.

"Darcy dear, you really need to lie down after drinking that." She went back to cleaning up the remnants of soup as Darcy muttered something about 'too tired to sleep' and 'just lemme die'.

Winter break was definitely maintaining her streak of shit luck this year. Pneumonia and clogged up sinuses? Yeah, that was the life.

Groaning as she suppressed another cough, she leaned back into the thick cushions and let her head dangle over the couch's arm. Hazy blue eyes roamed the little specks on the spackle ceiling, counting the larger shapes in her head and forming little pictures as though they were clouds.

"You got your internship letter!" echoed Veronica's voice. Her aunt had a surprisingly _loud_ voice.

When she heard steps approaching, Darcy quickly lifted the cup of soup to her mouth and proceeded to burn her lower lip with a muffled _fuck!_ as she nearly dropped the stupid thing.

"Darcy?" Her aunt shook her head and came over with some paper towels, sopping up the small mess. "Here," she said breathlessly as she thrust the envelope into Darcy's lap.

Curiously, the envelope was turned over and over in her hands, a combination of nerves and reluctance delaying its opening.

Veronica was about to reach over and open it for her, when Darcy shot her an annoyed look and tore open the flap herself.

"Private, y'know, federal offence? Yeah, that's a thing with mail," she quipped as she pulled the letter out. The greying brunette rolled her eyes and took the soiled towels back into the kitchen, leaving her niece alone to scan the letter in peace.

"'Once we secure your deposit'… blah blah… 'two bags in-flight'… only two? Pff. 'Warm clothing is a must'… well _duh_. 'Congratulations, and welcome to the Jötnar Junior Ambassador Programme'."

She set the letter on her leg and dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling. "God, this is gonna suck so much."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the inner workings of Darcy's mind. I should warn you: there is lots of cursing and general disgruntlement. Have fun!

The day had finally come. Darcy was all packed and waiting in line to board the plane that would take her to a shuttle that would take her to the Transplanetary flight to Jötunheimr. Seriously, who thought up this jacked system?

Her aunt had said her goodbyes at the terminal gate, complete with snot and ugly crying. It was embarrassing.

Anyway, for five months, she'd be glad to try something new, even if it _was_ going to be colder than the Ice Ages.

"Darcy Lewis, please report to the check-in counter. Darcy Lewis, please report to the check-in counter."

When she heard her name called out over the PA, she huffed as she dragged her bags out of line with a glare at the toolbag behind her. She saw the _look_ he'd given her. More precisely, her lovely lady lumps. "Perv," she muttered on her way to the desk. _This is the reason I wear oversized shit. Keep your dick in check_.

Amidst her inner monologue, one of the airline employees handed a cordless phone to her. "Miss Lewis, we have a Mr Bronzo on the line."

Raising a disbelieving eyebrow, she reached for the phone and injected as much shock into her tone as possible.

"Uncle Ben, is that you? Aunt May said you were dead!" The flight attendant gave her a weird look and tried to appear busy with a stack of papers.

"Nah, it's the ghost of Uncle Ben, calling to give you a warning: don't touch the rice. They've laced it with _healthy_ stuff." She heard him try to hold a laugh and smiled to herself. Trust her advisor to lighten her mood.

"No seriously, I'm glad I caught you. I got a call from the Jötnar Embassy saying they ran out of intern housing, so you'll have to meet one of the Senators instead. They might set you up with some broom closet in the palace. Lucky you."

"Ha. _Ha_. What's this space cadet's name?"

"Darcy, don't antagonise the locals. Seriously. I don't need the Dean coming down on me. _Anyway —_ "

"Hey, I take offence to that —"

" _ANYWAY_. Senator  Eydís Dálkrdóttir has arranged for one of her assistants to set you up with something decent. Keep an eye out."

Smirking to herself, Darcy mentally counted to three and…

"And please, I'm seriously begging you here, _don't insult anyone_."

Bingo!

She unwittingly put on an innocent face, reminiscent of the many times she'd been in his office trying to bullshit her way out of trouble. "Mr B, I'll be the picture of politeness. Thanks for the heads up."

The flight attendant waved to grab her attention. Looking up, she saw him frantically pointing towards the boarding line. It was last call.

"Oh shit, gotta go!"

She passed the line back to the guy who was practically hyperventilating. At least Mr Bronzo's fears were somewhat allayed. Maybe. He knew her too damn well, that was part of the problem. So she had a tendency to mess around with people. Was that really a crime?

Pre-flight check went by pretty quickly as a bunch of questions ran through her mind.

_Did I grab everything? Sweaters: check. Socks: double check. Lacy thongs no one will ever see: triple check. Ugh, this monastic life is getting tiresome. Wait, did I remember to —_

A jostle of her shoulder prompted her to glare at the jerk who had the nerve to interrupt her train of thought. "Excuse you," she said under her breath when the asshole didn't even bother to glance her way.

Before she knew it, the plane was already taxing down the runway in preparation for take-off. _NASA launch station, here I come._

—

Houston was beautifully warm. Sunny, 70 degrees, and just plain quiet. The airport wasn't nearly as packed as she thought it'd be, and the shuttle over to the NASA launch station was quick to get the handful of passengers set up.

Darcy's two bags saw better days, what with the way they were being tossed about, but at least she counted back over everything she'd managed to squeeze in them and was satisfied with the outcome.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare to run through the scanner and check in to your various destination checkpoints," said a monotone voice through the shuttle's intercom. "We will be arriving at Starkpad One momentarily."

From what she'd learned in history classes, flying just thirty years ago was a nightmare compared with now. You had to go through all of these barbaric x-rays and could barely hit the sound barrier. With Stark Industries monopolising the aerospace and 3D technology sectors, at least getting off of this boring rock was made a little more interesting. She hadn't met the man personally, but rumour had it that Tony Stark was a bizarrely coloured crayon in the box. All shades of the proverbial spectrum with a touch of insanity to boot.

But on the upside, a little craziness probably made life _really_ interesting.

She suddenly found herself praying to whatever the hell deities existed (if any were even listening, those lazy asshats) for this trip to be at least an iota pleasant. She'd been on trips like these before; usually it was just touring the local political offices, listening to withered old farts talking on and on about the good of the people and never quite touching on the really juicy stuff. Things like global warming, icecaps melting, penguins learning how to fly. Really bizarre shit.

A gentle hum and abrupt stop shook her back to the present, and she was already hopping off of the shuttle and hauling her bags towards the hissing glass doors. The Stark logo was emblazoned on practically every surface in this station.

 _Narcissistic fuckface_ , she thought charitably.

Once inside the dome building, she was guided by signs to Transplanetary flights, and finally, _finally_ got to put those heavy-as-bricks bags down onto the check-in belt. The robotic 'steward' flipped efficiently through her internship documents and got her checked in with time to spare.

At the far end of the building, she saw the plane-cum-rocket that would blast off in just forty-five minutes and pass stars she'd just gazed at last night. Before this, there were only international trips to draw on for experience; but this, _this_ was finally sinking in as something way out of this world. The tiny bit of awe she felt could be excusable. It was only human to be faced with your own smallness and amazedly cower before it, right?

"Now boarding flight 33 to Jötunheimr, now boarding," announced the oddly tinkling robotic voice.

Sighing wistfully, Darcy joined six other students (who looked considerably less collected than her) in the short queue to board the rocket-shaped contraption.

"Have you ever seen one of these before?" one student whispered to another. The ponytail-toting girl in question shook her head and, wide-eyed, said conspiratorially over her shoulder, "I've heard the outer hull can withstand temperatures ten times greater than the sun's core. Mr Stark is a _genius_."

Darcy laughed to herself and wondered just where these nerds came from. Some science-y engineering school, maybe? Jane'd fit in nicely. Her physics roommate was Nerd Supreme, but at least she was chill. If she had to interact much with her rocket-mates while on the icy planet, Darcy might just pull all of her hair out.

Although, she always did want to try bald…

—

Faces pressed to the cool glass of the rocket/plane, the Science Geek Squad were chattering away about hadrons and microns and ions and... god, she was getting such a headache.

Still, though she wouldn't admit it, Darcy was side-glancing, herself. Jötunheimr was just coming up on their starboard side, and she couldn't help but notice the pale blue planet approaching like an ethereal full moon rising over the earth. There was something about the dotted lights and lines she could see that reminded her of a puzzle; maybe a fairy-lit maze full of weird and wonderful mythical creatures.

"Damnit Darce, stop reading Harry Potter before going to bed," she chastised herself.

"Attention, we will be arriving in the Capitol city of Drífa within thirty minutes. Please remain seated and prepare for landing."

A well of fluttery nerves bubbled up in her chest when she thought how close they were to being on an honest-to-god alien planet. Maybe it was finally sinking in that this was definitely not Kansas.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she leaned back in her seat and counted backwards from 100. Flying was all well and good, but the descent part of trips like this was nerve-racking. It felt like there _should_ be turbulence where there was only smooth sailing. _That's what I get for reading history, I guess._

The low hum from the engines set a calming rhythm in her bones that made it easy enough to drift and forget where she was, at least until a flight attendant came by to check her paperwork.

"Excuse me Miss Lewis, I need to verify your intern packet."

With a nod from Darcy, the petite attendant flipped through a folder, checking some information on a clipboard. By the time she was done and Darcy happened to glance out the window, she noticed that they had already touched down and were pulling into a jet black building. She couldn't be sure, but it sort of looked like a cave was dug out to create a hangar.

"Is that a natural formation?" the Geek Chic girl asked the flight attendant, who smiled and said that it was once a part of a natural series of tunnels that were excavated.

 _Score!_ thought Darcy with a smug smile. _That's science talk for cave. Why can't they just make it simple? Overbrainy losers._

She couldn't help 'bumping' into the same girl a little on her way off the plane, with a sopping, sugary sweet apology and a big, fake smile.

"Oh no problem! I'm sorry I was in your way!" replied the nerd. _Oh Jesus, save me before I prank the shit out of this brainiac_ , Darcy thought rather vehemently. If she were a better person, she might try to get to know the girl; after all, she didn't look too ugly, just a snaggle tooth here and there.

But there were better things to think about. Like — "Holy shit!" — that huge ass crystal statue that greeted them upon exiting their 'gate', which was more of a ramp dumping its passengers into the largest space she'd seen in her life. It was easily 500 feet high. Seriously, this place had to be built for giants —

One of them cut off her train of thought as they approached with a serene expression and a sparkly golden sash that looked important. The dude must've been an easy 20 feet.

She tried really hard not to stare as he glanced at each of them with his blood red eyes.

"Welcome to Drífa, my friends! I am Sunnviðr Lýðbiǫrnson, your guide for the afternoon," the frost giant said in heavily accented English. "You are among the first students to arrive for the programme in over two Midgardian years. Please, join me in the Ancillary Room for an introductory briefing." After bowing his great figure almost in half, he turned and led the way down the great open space into something resembling a lobby.

Everywhere she looked, Darcy could see figurines or statues carved from a translucent blue material, almost like ice but not quite so fragile looking. She inadvertently pulled the over-large purple sweater tighter, crossing her arms as she scooted just a little closer to the other students. Maybe it was psychological, but did it suddenly get colder in here?

"Before we continue onwards to our briefing room, I would like to point out the decorations and architecture. Here, among many other city-state Capitol buildings, you will see these sculptures made of _ís gler_, more precisely translated as 'ice glass' in your tongue." His hand swept over the room as he walked slowly, stopping to indicate a few larger pieces.

"As a people risen from the ice, that name is very fitting, is it not?" His smile seemed a little menacing if you looked a little too closely, so Darcy let her mind wander to a few smaller figurines he hadn't shown just yet. One looked like it was grinning at her. Narrowing her eyes, she walked over and canted her head to get a better look at its face.

She didn't expect to be so drawn to it that she'd drifted off into la-la land. The voice at her right made her practically jump out of her skin:

"Excuse me, are you Miss Darcy Lewis?"

Steadying herself and trying to play it cool, she turned and plastered on a big smile. "Yes! I'm sorry, I just meant to get a closer look —"

"No, not to worry Miss Darcy. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Líknbiǫrn Ólafrson. I represent Senator Dálkrdóttir. She has requested to speak with you regarding the unfortunate room change; may I?"

The smaller statured frost giant held his hand out towards what looked like a gilded doorway.

"Won't I be missed?" Darcy asked as she glanced back at the group of students, only to find that they were nowhere to be seen. "Oh, well I guess not."

He was already smiling and nodding as though anticipating her reaction. "They have gone to the briefing rooms. Not to worry, I will return you with all of the proper briefing materials in time for your group adjournment. Please, follow me."

She wanted to say something else, but apparently when a 15-foot frost giant asked you to follow, he expected you to. Mentally shrugging, she raised herself just a little taller and trailed several feet behind. A few more furtive glances around the vast room were filed away in her mind.

After passing through a lamp-lit corridor that looked like it was made of dark grey limestone, they entered into a considerably smaller space, but no less impressive. The same glassy statues were dotted around. Three chairs sat against a wall, opposite which was carved an intricate looking door embellished with ivy or some similar vines.

"If you will wait here for a few moments, I will let the senator know of your arrival. Please do help yourself to refreshments." The Jötunn indicated a granite tray set upon a pedestal in one of the corners, something she hadn't noticed before.

"Thank you, I look forward to meeting her," she returned. Once the door was closed, she looked around to catch anything else she might've glossed over.

The natural look of this place definitely appealed to her artistic side; she really needed to draw whatever she remembered later. This was awesome architecture.

"Yep, granite. Maybe a bit of limestone. Or shale." As she continued on her impromptu tour, she didn't hear the door draw open with the soft grating noise of stone on stone.

"Miss Darcy Lewis, I presume?" said a soft, yet commanding voice.

Darcy turned, getting caught off-guard for a second time. This time, it was more than obvious who was addressing her.

"Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator Dálkrdóttir." The official-looking seal emblazoned on her pale yellow sash was a dead giveaway.

Her first instinct was to shake hands with the giantess, but then she remembered her International Etiquette course and bowed instead.

Above her, the Senator's lips quirked before returning to a neutral expression, her own bow slightly less defined. Darcy didn't miss the small spark in her warm coral eyes, though.

"I am honoured, Miss Darcy," Senator Dálkrdóttir returned in her soft voice. It was a little hypnotic. "My assistant was kind enough to set up new quarters for you. If you follow me, I shall escort you to them."

Polite though they were, the Jöunns didn't seem to expect much by way of replies. The senator was already walking back through the corridor before Darcy could get her bearings, so she jogged a little to catch up. This time it seemed like they really were in a maze, as they zig-zagged across corridors that all looked the same.

What felt like an hour later, they reached one that was much brighter and slightly less chilly. Central heating?

"You will be staying in this wing, Miss Darcy." The senator stopped at an archway that led into a fork between hallways. "To your right is the study, and to your left is the room you will be occupying for the length of your stay with us."

Darcy bowed slightly to show her thanks and started to open her mouth, but was cut off.

"My apologies, I have very little time. I will see you later this evening at the welcoming feast. My assistant will join you shortly to return you to your group."

With that, the senator was gone, leaving behind a slightly confused Midgardian in her wake.

 _Okay, maybe I'll just show myself in_ , she thought a bit acidly. Yeah, they were polite and all, but they needed to work on those people skills.

She let herself get distracted with the architecture instead of thinking further uncharitable things.

The left part of the fork was undeniably pretty. Like, out-of-this-world-and-into-fairyland-pretty.

Little coloured lights inset along the cavernous curved ceiling winked like the twinkling lights of stars. Even the door was gorgeous: carved into a design similar to the senator's, the swirling vines surrounded what probably passed for a door handle here. A jutting crystalline horn stood in the centre like a trophy.

Just the gentlest of nudges prompted it to recede and the door to open. What lay beyond was nothing if not entirely unexpected.

Bright fixtures in crystal and gold dotted the walls. She couldn't be sure, but they looked like really tall cabinets or stupidly expensive armoires. And was that a _skylight_? Were there even any clouds or bright sunlight here? _If you'd paid closer attention to the intern packet you might know this, genius_ , her conscience scathed. Ignoring it, Darcy followed the far wall and was floored. Like, literally couldn't move because she felt her stomach in her feet, floored.

A massive, repeat, _massive_ bed took over most of this room. All hues of blue and purple, with gently curved statues in the corners. A golden set of drawers complemented the whole thing like the ostentatious crown on a king. This was like something out of her dreams as a kid. She'd always wished she could live underwater, and this came so close she could cry.

The bed beckoned and she gladly answered the call, flopping on the edge with her head in her hands.

"Well damn. I'm _definitely_ not in Kansas anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The names I'm using throughout this story come from: [this excellent site](http://www.nordicnames.de). I've assigned names based on: a) future roles the characters will play, or b) literal representations of what the characters do or stand for. Gotta love Old Norse! As for every day words, I've had to default to Icelandic, as that seems the closest to Old Norse. Hopefully I've done it justice!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To address some comments, I have to stress that the last chapter was a glimpse _inside Darcy's mind_. If you could enter into someone else's mind, you won't like everything you see; in fact, think back to some of the things that you, yourself have thought. Little anecdotes, ramblings, even some nasty things about people that you might be ashamed of. Of course, you'd likely never say these things aloud, but no one's stopping you from thinking them as a form of stress relief, if nothing else.
> 
> So to shift gears, don't worry my faithful readers, things are going to change in a big way for Darcy. She'll be forced to undergo an attitude makeover or risk being left behind. For now, this update reveals a few things about the Jötunn Senator and sets the stage for Loki's impending entrance. Enjoy!
> 
> Finally: translations show up when you hover over underlined text.

The morning air lashed hard and crisp against Darcy's cheek. Technically, it was spring here, but it felt like the start of a very long winter.

She'd diligently read through the intern packet last night and learned that Jötunheimr had three seasons: cold, really freaking cold, and butt crack of Old Man Winter cold.

Today was somewhere in the middle. Luckily she'd dressed warmly and had supplementary protection provided by the Jötunns. She couldn't help noticing their bemused expressions as they looked over the group of puny humans.

"Good morning my friends," announced Lýðbiǫrnson as he approached the small, huddling group. "I see you have prepared well." His grin said it all as he glanced over each face, red eyes laughing at them. Strips of his dark blue skin were visible through the thick patchwork cloth draped over his shoulders. Darcy couldn't help hating him for just a second. It wasn't fair that he looked like he was about to go sunbathing and here she was, freezing her ass off.

"Not to worry, the warm blood in your veins will acclimate before your five months are up." As if he were directly addressing her. "Traditionally we begin our trek first thing. However, I have learned that human bellies grumble with unease unless they are appeased. Come, we have prepared a small feast for you before our journey."

Lýðbiǫrnson turned and led the way past the lobby. The icy sculptures glittered in the low-rising sun, catching Darcy's eye and reminding her of the day before.

_I wonder what else I'll stumble into today._

—

An hour later found them all full and energised. Whatever the Jötunn equivalent of breakfast was had to pack at least 1000mg of caffeine in it. The others were chattering away as Darcy bowed over her packet. Better prepared than sorry.

She was so engrossed that she didn't notice the hush that suddenly took over.

One of the quiet Jötunns near the entrance had approached the group, his watchful amber eyes taking in each human member. Before Darcy could catch her breath, he lifted his arms and chanted, his voice almost sublime. A few minutes later, he ended with:

" _M an þegar snjór fellur að það er ég sem hafa komið að heimsækja þig_."

She'd unconsciously drawn closer to the sweet-voiced giant. Had he used some weird hypnosis on them?

Their guide waved the group over and indicated the Jötunn who was quiet again.

"This is our resident _læknir_ , what you would call a healer. He is Miúki Frøðrson of the Northern tribes. The story he has told is sacred; a blessing on our journey."

The Jötunn in question bowed his head, eyes lowered respectfully, before resuming his position by the entrance of the dining hall.

"Now that we are all ready for the trip, let us head for the mouth of the base. Do not forget to submit the final page of your intern packet to the assistants prior to departure."

He gave a few more instructions as they walked through the rest of the stone-faced tunnels. Here and there light fell across sculptures and walls. This was probably one of the most surreal places she'd ever been. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being here for five months — if nothing else, at least she could brag about this later on.

"Excuse me Mr Lýðbiǫrnson," piped up the ponytailed girl from yesterday. _Sara Brous_ , Darcy recalled. The chattery one. "Is it likely that we'll encounter local wildlife?" Their guide didn't stop leading them, but slowed and turned slightly towards them to give his reply:

"If you are extremely lucky, you may observe some cave-dwelling _nashyrningur_. They live solitary, shy lives, but appear quite large for your kind. We fondly refer to them as 'pygmy elephants'."

Again with that grin: he was seriously laughing at them. Darcy rolled her eyes at a few of the gasps from the other interns. "I bet they're as docile as house cats," she said with a snort. "The big, menacing ones usually are."

She raised a brow in challenge towards Lýðbiǫrnson, who merely inclined his head. _Oh yeah, he sees me now._

They kept going, with a small group behind her flipping over the packet and whispering loudly enough to be heard the next tunnel over. "No, I heard that _these_ are more dangerous than those. Look it up! Everyone knows that rhinos are more aggressive than hippos."

Darcy slowed her step and joined the group conversation. "Actually, some rhinos have been known to kill you with cuteness. Didn't you check out the visual index at the back? Those _nashy_ things look like huge koala bears."

As they were comparing pictures at the back of the packet, Lýðbiǫrnson announced in a booming voice: "We have arrived at the checkpoint. Come, retrieve your packets and prepare the final page. We must depart in ten minutes."

Right on schedule, they started hiking down a slope leading away from the base. It was easy enough starting out.

But less than an hour later, most of the group was already falling back, with Darcy somewhere in the middle.

"Please stop, I can't keep up!" Sara said amidst huffing breaths. Darcy almost felt sorry for her, if only she weren't out of breath herself.

One of the Jötunn assistants at the back came over with a gruff, "What is the problem here!"

Sara's friend looked up with a frown. "We didn't expect such a hard trip on the first day. She's tired!"

" _Emile, s'il vous_ _plaît, ne pas_," Sara replied in French. She glanced up at the Jötunn with an apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry, I just need a short rest. May we stop here for a while?"

The rock she was leaning against looked big enough to accommodate most of the group, so the assistant sighed irritably and barked something in Jötunn towards the front. Lýðbiǫrnson took charge of his smaller section down the path a ways. Looking between the two groups, Darcy chose to stay with Sara, Emile, and two of the other European interns.

Emile was saying something to Sara in French, but Darcy was able to pick up a few words, like "rude" and "inferior". She tried to drown out the rest as her gaze wandered across the landscape.

Icy slopes surrounded them on most sides, with a well-trodden path carved between. Something about it looked weirdly familiar...

It felt like a repeat of this morning, like she was in that weird trance-y state. The crunching of packed snow beneath her feet didn't even register.

However long later, Darcy found herself in very unfamiliar territory. How'd she gotten here? There were a few high-faced hills that were shady and jagged. If she tilted her head just so, they looked like angry faces about to jump out at her.

Backing up a bit, she practically jumped out of her skin when she hit something solid. And _warm_.

Was that a huff of breath over her shoulder?

 _Ohgodohgodohgod_ , she chanted in a distinctly panicked mental voice. _OhmygodIcan'tdie._ The logical thing to do was to move slowly, but logic wasn't always one of Darcy's strong points. So she did what any sane, rational person did: she screamed like a banshee and _ran_.

The sound of pounding behind her made her heart threaten to rip through her chest. Despite her quip earlier about this planet's rhinos, she was scared shitless of them. They looked cute, sure, but they were still huge. What had the Jötunns called them? 'Pygmy elephants'? Yeah, right; more like big ass houses that could tear you into unrecognisable pieces.

She chanced a quick glance behind her to confirm her mind's awful mental image. Something grey came into her line of sight before it dropped off. Before _she_ dropped off, she realised a little too late.

Tumbling down a sharp slope hurt like a bitch. She tried her best to protect her head by tucking both arms and legs inward.

The worst of the damage bit at her thighs and shoulders when she finally slammed side-first to a dead stop. It felt like she'd been dragged against a cheese grater.

Everything ached and burned so much she yelped when she tried to straighten her legs out. Quickly keeping quiet, Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a hasty prayer to anyone listening. Maybe if she were extremely lucky, she hadn't broken any ribs or limbs, just copped a few bruises thanks to her absent-mindedness.

An icy gale of wind caught her face, leaving her teeth chattering and her nose so numb, she could swear it fell off. That morning's breakfast was starting to violently churn in her belly.

Another groan slipped past her lips, but at least she managed to sit up a little. Her back throbbed from the weight of her body leaning against a frozen rock.

Looking around her through cracked lenses, Darcy saw the remnants of her backpack. The majority of it lay in tatters some twenty feet away, with ration packs and papers strewn all around. If she could control the shivering long enough, she might be able to find the first aid kit...

A sharp twinge cut through her leg a second later.

"Damnit!" she spat through the pain, a few angry tears falling from her face and almost freezing on contact. If it hurt that bad, it had to be broken, or sprained at the very least. Thinking back on the various sections of the intern packet, she remembered something about the ice here.

Her gloved hands hastily dug into a shard of ice on the frozen rock behind her. Yanking back and forth, Darcy pushed through the pain in her back and finally got a piece broken off. She took a few steadying breaths and pulled the layers of her right pant leg up, wincing as she saw the blood trickling from an ugly cut. _You've got this, Darce. It'll work_ , she assured herself, then touched the tip of the ice to bare skin.

An excruciating minute later, her whole leg felt numb. Past the pain of the freezing cold, the ice had worked its weird mojo on her like an anaesthetic. Something about this planet gave the ice some kind of magic, just like the skin of the Jötnar burned on prolonged contact.

The rest of the shard slipped down into the packed snow. Darcy started shivering violently.

Her throat closed up so she couldn't even scream.

—

"Go retrieve her!" Senator Dálkrdóttir ordered in a terse voice. She turned back to the half-formed tapestry laid out on her desk. A few silver threads were hanging precariously from the rest of the image.

Her assistant understood very little of Eydís's ability; he merely knew that the Senator was a seer whose visions were eerily precise. He ran as quickly as his booted feet would allow — curse these Midgardian standards. He could get around so much better gripping the bare ground beneath.

Líknbiǫrn was already shouting for the intern liaison before he reached the entrance hall.

—

"S-stay awake, awake, awa-a-ak-ke," Darcy said to herself through the violent shaking. Her eyelids threatened to close more each time, already half-lidded and getting precariously droopier.

The cold was so unbelievable. How she was still conscious was beyond her. It had to be at least -30 Celsius.

 _This is it_ , she thought miserably, _I'm gonna freeze on some alien planet. God, who'd I piss off to end up like this._

She huddled closer into herself. The backpack looked a mile away, for as much as she could move. A foot was the closest she'd gotten before the pain became too intense. A light dusting of snow was finally covering the stark red spots peppered around her leg, at least. She was getting nauseous looking at it.

Falling almost completely closed, her eyes shot open and she felt her heart rate speed up. _Something_ was moving around her.

"Shit, I can't deal with this!" she cried hopelessly as she tried to squirm back behind the rock. Her right leg was thankfully still numb, but now it was a dead weight that she couldn't manoeuvre quite right.

More faintly rustling sounds kept her alert.

"Miss Darcy Lewis?" came a decidedly less than murderous voice, although it was distant. A search party?

"H-here! My leg's hurt!" she called as loud as she could.

"Miss Lewis! Keep talking, lead us to you!"

There was no way she could move to get past the shielding rock, so she projected until her throat was raw.

What felt like years later, three Jötunns were surrounding her and tending to her leg. One of them strapped a bandage up to her knee while another turned her hand over and injected something into her ulnar vein. The sudden rush of warmth was such a polar opposite to the whole body chill that she felt herself stutter and suddenly stop. What was once a heated conversation around her transformed into garbled words and murmurs. Every sound gradually blended into a point until her head felt pleasantly afloat.

Finally, Darcy let her eyes close as she drifted into painless unconsciousness.

—

That small dot of light was irritating. She couldn't swat it away nor blink it off. What the hell was that?

Unbeknownst to Darcy, she was just coming out of a drugged nap. Her pupils were so dilated that she couldn't keep her eyes open too long. She did notice a figure coming towards her with something. She wasn't sure, but it looked like the figure was pulling something away from her body. Wait, was that her arm? A little prick was all she felt before the light floaty feeling almost took over again. The voices in the background drew to a tunnel point again and she started to shut her eyes, although before she gave in to the magical drugs, something prompted her to look around just once more.

Senator Dálkrdóttir talking with Miúki the Jötunn healer was the last thing she saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jötunn expedition greeting borrows from ["The Snow Boy"](http://home.online.no/~arnfin/native/lore/leg095.htm), a story told by the Lenape tribe of North America. Check it out; it's a cool read. ;D
> 
> Mobile users, future translations will be in the end notes. For this chapter:  
> \- "Remember when snow falls that it is I who have come to visit you."  
> \- "Emile, please don't."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a month? Sorry for the long wait. Taking six classes is clearly messing with my life. x_x Midterms are finally over and the next chapter is half-written, so it shouldn't take that long to post the next one.
> 
> Now, on with the story!

Dim light greeted Darcy when she opened her eyes. She had just enough strength to crane her neck and get a quick glimpse around the room: more of that stonework, but it looked kind of luminescent, like thousands of little fireflies were spreading their cool glow.

She was about to close her eyes, but something caught in her peripheral vision and she forced her eyelids to cooperate.

Something... blue? Some _one_? By the time she got her bearings enough to lift her head, the corner space was empty.

 _Huh, must've been the drugs._ She wasn't going to begin wondering what sort of effects they might have on a human; then again, she wouldn't complain, either. The pain in her body was just a dull sensation now.

The urge to sleep was strong. She wanted nothing more than to drift into pleasant unconsciousness for another year and forget she even existed — but then again, that didn't sound like a courageous thing to do. And Darcy was nothing if not too brave for her own good.

So she did what any stupidly brave human would in her position. She forced herself to stand up so she could sneak out of this cool-yet-freaky kaleidoscope room. Darcy was anticipating guards or at least one Jötunn watching her room because, let's face it, a single human left alone could obviously wreak a lot of havoc. As if she hadn't proved that already. Seeing no one in sight, she shrugged to herself and hightailed it the hell out of there. One winding path after another and she thought she was seeing and hearing things again.

It was the clinking sound that made her stop for a second. "Who's there?" she called out, to seemingly no one.

Brows drawn together in question, she continued towards what she hoped was the antechamber of the Senator's office. She'd probably get called out for leaving that hippie room, but at least she could get some questions answered. There was no way in hell she'd leave before she figured out what that quiet healer dude was doing to her.

The long walk down slate-coloured corridors left her in a sort of trance, where her mind wandered back to the day before. Or days. Whatever. She still wasn't sure how long she'd been knocked out.

_"This is our resident **læknir** , what you would call a healer. He is Miúki Frøðrson of the Northern tribes."_

Lýðbiǫrnson had called the man a healer, so like a doctor? But weren't doctors supposed to _fix_ people? She didn't know too much about the Jötunn social system, but the fact that he was from some tribe probably meant they had something like a Native American system in some parts. That, she could work with. She'd grown up around the Southwestern US for a good portion of her life and had encountered Indians plenty of times.

Before she realised it, she'd finally found the lamp-lit hallway that led to the Senator's office. That cool set of statues greeted her as she walked in and didn't hesitate to knock on the heavy, ivy-covered door. It took a while for anyone to answer, which was a little surprising. Wasn't there always some assistant or other hanging around the place?

A little rustling could be heard when the door cracked open, and then she saw the familiar face of Senator Dálkrdóttir.

"Miss Darcy," the giantess greeted, "I did not expect to see you up and walking so soon. How are you feeling?"

She seemed like she was in a good mood. Maybe nobody'd told her about the little escape from the doctor's office. This could work to her advantage.

"Great! Those medicines you have work wonders. May I... come in?" Darcy gave a hesitant step forward before searching the office.

"Oh yes, please excuse my absent-mindedness. It has been a long morning. Please, have a seat." The Senator was still smiles, but didn't rise from her seat.

_O-kaaaay..._

Without touching it, the door closed behind her as Darcy sat in the high-backed chair. Even while sitting there with her back straight and hands folded neatly in her lap, she couldn't help the small glances around the room. It was brightly lit and even had what looked like a skylight. _Seriously, how does the architecture work around here?_

"Miss Darcy?" prompted Senator Dálkrdóttir in a soft, quizzical tone. When Darcy turned to her, cheeks slightly pink, the Senator smiled indulgently.

"I assume you wished to discuss something?"

"Yes, I meant to ask about something. The other day... I mean, was it just one day that I was knocked out?" she asked, slightly sidetracked.

The Senator looked down at a note before she responded, "Nearly three days. The wounds you sustained were substantial; however, our healers were able to treat them efficiently. Human flesh is very responsive to our medicines."

"Three days... okay, well three days ago before the fall, I remember this healer. Miúki-something?"

"Miúki Frøðrson of the north, yes."

"Right, Frøðrson. He said something weird. There was this blessing he told us before the trip, but then it felt like I was, I don't know, hypnotised or something. It's like I couldn't hear what else he said but I know I felt something after it." She fidgeted a little in her seat, hands twisting and breathing coming a bit heavier. Just trying to remember was wearing her down, although she managed to keep her voice steady and tried to pretend that she was fine.

With a little smile that felt a bit too forced, she continued. "Maybe time lost. Like I was dazed and half a day went by. Does that make any sense?" Darcy's voice lifted at the end of her question before she could rein it in.

She could see it before it became apparent. Senator Dálkrdóttir shut down in the most polite manner she could.

"I must apologise, Miss Darcy, I am rather busy this morning. I understand that your group is to begin the political lectures today. It would be most unwise to miss it. If there is nothing else?"

God, she really wanted to call her out, but knew it would be best to just let it slide. This time.

"Oh, right, sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for your time." With a nod of the Senator's head, Darcy headed back out to the antechamber, her troubling thoughts carving wrinkles across her forehead.

—

"This lecture is a first in a series regarding Jötunheimr's royal hegemony. We will begin with a discussion of our leadership, and then continue with all relevant positions in hierarchical order. I suggest that you take detailed notes, as you will be expected to reproduce this system in our diplomatic simulation one-third of the way through your internship."

To say that the start of lectures was boring was a complete understatement. This had never been her strong suit in school. It was in diplomatic relations that she excelled, so she'd been studying that part of the packet until she almost wore through the thick pages. Most of the lecture was a faint blur as the clock ticked slowly by.

"...the purpose of which is to ensure documentation is filed accordingly."

Ten minutes dragged by.

"...whereas the magistrate will always refer to the Judicial Manuscripts laid down over ten centuries —"

Darcy caught herself about to snooze, so she sat up a little straighter and wiped some drool off her face. Gross, seriously.

Another hour and the lecture was starting to wind down a little. She had hope until —

"That concludes our overview of higher offices. Now we begin with the lower offices, headed by the Special Consul General of Skåne. Its Assistant to the Consul General is tasked with amending treaty disputes by northern parties..."

Sighing to herself, Darcy rested her head between her hands. A steady stream of inner monologue kept her amused, at least.

_Consul this and magistrate that. It's like an episode of All My Children, Jötunn style, and with way more paper pushing. Seriously, anyone who willingly lets themselves run for lower office is an idiot._

This time she really did tune out as she imagined a real live soap opera unfolding between two beefy blue dudes that were oddly half-naked and just the right height for her tastes.

_"The Midgardian is correct, while you, píkusleikir, can hardly tell the difference between your mother and a donkey's rear!"_

_"Blaspheming mongrel!"_

_The two Jötunns tackled each other and pulled on hair, pants, whatever they could get their hands on until their nicely defined pecs were gleaming with sweat._

_"Please don't fight over me, boys! There's plenty to go around!" squealed her mental counterpart, delight lining her face. The Jötunns turned to her with predatory smiles, and just as they began advancing —_

"My Prince! Welcome, we were on the verge of finishing today's lecture," Lýðbiǫrnson's voice cut into the lecturer's last sentence.

Darcy was shaken from her pleasant mental imagery by the hushed chattering from the other interns in the room. There, at the very front, stood a much shorter Jötunn dressed to the nines. He had a polished golden sword hanging down his right leg while the rest of him looked like he came out of an honest-to-god gladiator movie. Gold intersected his chest in a coat of arms stitched onto a deep green sash that hung across from his left shoulder. Black breeches, forest green knee-length boots, and a black sleeveless chiton drew her attention to his slender, but definitely well-defined chest and arms.

 _Talk about your dreams coming to life_ , she smirked to herself.

His deep red eyes looked over the human group before he bowed lightly. "It is an honour to meet with you all. My name is Prince Loki, sole heir and son of King Laufey and Queen Fárbauti. I am sure we shall have ample opportunity to meet again before your simulations." For some reason, Darcy had the distinct impression that he was looking and talking straight at her. Creepy. "Lýðbiǫrnson, it was a pleasure."

Following his quick introduction, he nodded to Lýðbiǫrnson before heading back out.

"As you can see, we have a well-respected royal family within this very complex to guide us in future simulations. I expect all of you to read through the next three chapters in your packets. With that, we will adjourn our lessons for the day. You will have the next thirty minutes to confer with your fellow interns."

Thankfully, the quiet classroom atmosphere shattered as excited voices rose to a loud din.

Sara and Emile automatically paired off, though Sara seemed eager to talk with the other interns about the lecture. Darcy wasn't a huge fan of Emile after she remembered what he said about the Jötunns a few days back. They were here to learn from them — calling them inferior wasn't going to get the dude very far. And besides that, she thought the giants were kind of awesome. Minus that weird hypnosis crap with the healer.

"Darcy, I meant to ask, are you feeling better?" asked Sara, breaking Darcy from her thoughts.

"Yeah, thanks. Did anything fun happen while I was gone?"

Sara smiled and began recounting the events of the last three days, and Darcy couldn't help smiling back as the girl chattered away.

—

By the end of the afternoon, Lýðbiǫrnson let everyone head back to their rooms to prepare for dinner. The whole walk back to her wing was pretty uneventful. She thought she might be getting a hang of the layout of this labyrinthine tunnel by the differing shades of stone. Corridors leading towards her part of the building got brighter and warmer, which she was beyond grateful for the more she thought about it.

Just a few steps down the lighter hallway, and there was that _clink_ again. Same as before, only closer, like it was right above her.

Looking up, she didn't see where the noise could possibly be coming from. To her left, that same thing from this morning. Something blue that made her hair stand on end.

"Knock it off! I know you're there!" she shouted.

Her steps got quicker the closer she got to her room. Right at the archway with that fork in the halls, the clinking stopped. Darcy turned back to see only empty corridor. Narrowing her eyes, she pushed on the handle to her door and willed it to slam shut.

Naturally, it closed as gently as usual.

"Stupid crystal horned slab of stone," she muttered to herself.

"I should describe it more as a finely chiselled pile of marble, actually. That is, after all —"

"— _you_!" Darcy started, whirling around to face the familiar voice.

"— what it is composed of. Merely made to look as simple as granite." His grin was pure evil. So much evil that her mouth could barely form words.

"How are you —! _Where_ — how do you get off —!"

Regardless of his royal status, Darcy stormed up to Prince Loki, narrow-eyed and a few choice expletives finally falling from her lips.

"You bastard! You've been stalking me all fucking day, haven't you!" Okay, so she wasn't _entirely_ sure it was him, exactly. But something about him was familiar. She was almost 100% positive that he'd spied on her in that healing room, and shadowed her from there. The way he talked and looked when he introduced himself to the class had ruffled her feathers, too.

His grin transformed into a patient smile, tone low and even. "My dear Midgardian, I believe that fall must have caused you to bump your head quite hard. I have never once 'stalked' you, as you so kindly put it. I have never laid eyes upon you until your class lecture today."

Pure, unfettered bullshit. This guy was good.

"Oh my god, you did not," she said, cutting herself off. She tried to think logically about this. Maybe he hadn't been stalking her. It could have been any blue person. Or maybe it wasn't a person, but rather a thing she'd seen in that room.

Darcy was about to calmly apologise for going off on him when he shifted on the table in her living room. That _clink_ , it came from his sword.

Eyes wide, her hands closed into fists that itched to make acquaintance with his pretty face. "I really don't care who you are. You can't go around following people, making them think they're crazy, or go all peeping tom on them in the hospital! Not cool, dude."

"Do you truly not care, Miss Lewis? I could have you dragged to the prisons for the way you've addressed me. Think about it. Carefully." Belying his words was a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He thought this was a game?

The gears shifted a fraction as she stood before him with arms crossed. "Okay, let's cut the BS. I know it was you. _You_ know it was you. Your stupid sword gave it away. Why are you following me?"

Silence. Loki watched her curiously, his eyes flitting from her face to her firm stance. He stood and paced the length of the room. "If you must know, this is _my_ wing. Eydís did not place you here by accident, and I wish to know why."

Turning to watch him, Darcy raised a curious eyebrow. "If this is your wing, why is it heated? I bet Jötunns don't get the chills too often. You're like a freaking man-sized popsicle."

Loki paused at her question. "You raise a good point. Perhaps we have both been toyed with," he suggested as he faced her. "Why should you be here at all? There are plenty of rooms open within the intern wing."

Woah. Seriously? There was something rotten in Denmark, and she was pretty sure it wasn't that weird-ass fish she puked up during lunch. Just thinking about it made her queasy.

"Evading questions is a thing with Jötunns, isn't it? Fine, let's say we're being screwed with. I mean that doesn't even make sense since you're the prince and all. _Can_ you even be screwed with?" He grinned and then opened his mouth to respond, but she quickly cut off her own line of questioning. "Whatever, forget I asked that, I'm still dizzy from lunch. What I mean is..."

Was the room supposed to be spinning like that? "Is... ugh, don't feel so..."

For the second time in as many days, she passed out like the chick in distress. What a lame cliché.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no translations for that one naughty word. :P There will be plenty of dirty words later on that you'll understand juuuust fine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Here's a quick update in celebration, before I go off to some haunted houses. :P

When light hit her eyelids this time, Darcy was totally prepared for it.

She groaned as she sat up, immediately looking around for Prince Loki. Who she saw was considerably more female. And taller.

"What the —"

Her hands went up to her temples and she shut her eyes in an attempt to stop the spinning.

"Miss Darcy, you must rest. Healer Rønnou will not tolerate another escape attempt."

Darcy had the decency to look somewhat shamed. She still let a little smirk creep through, though. "Yeah, about that... I just couldn't stand being cooped up anymore. Can you tell him I'm sorry?"

"Her, and yes, I will gladly do so." The young Jötunn's face showed amusement, although she was quick to return her features to neutral. "Now rest. I will bring you something for your head."

Before Darcy could thank her, the giantess left the room and closed the door behind her. A distinct _click_ could be heard.

—

 _Being sick blows some serious ass_ , she thought for the millionth time. _What I wouldn't give for my playlist. Damnit, why'd I forget my iPod._

She was sitting up in her bed, idly flicking through a few pages of what passed for a magazine. It was in some funky writing that she couldn't decipher for the life of her. Maybe it wasn't Standard Jötunn. Not that she was that great at it to begin with — Culver only required a semester of it.

"Miss Darcy, how are you feeling?" Her head shot up and she smiled. _Finally, someone to talk to!_

It was the same Jötunn girl from before, who had the awesome insight to treat her headache. Whatever she'd given her was the shit. It banished all traces of pain and left her on a fluffy cloud. Too bad it couldn't alleviate her boredom for the last few hours, but she guessed they were watching her so she wouldn't find a way out again.

"Better. I mean, bored as hell, but at least my head isn't pounding and I'm definitely not dizzy. So listen, can I get out of here anytime soon?"

The Jötunn smiled indulgently as she took the seat beside Darcy's bed. "I am afraid it may be a while until you can be released. Healer Rønnou —"

"Yeah, she's probably thinking I'm a nutcase or something. I get it. Can I at least get some music in here? I can't read a word in this magazine." She held it out for the girl to glance over. The thick, matte pages gave off a pretty epic shimmer at that angle. _Oh that's neat. Magazines that shimmery are usually Playboy brand back home_ _._

Was that a giggle? The Jötunn covered her mouth and cleared her throat. "My apologies, this is not typical reading material. I suspect KvígR left it here by accident. You see this section here," she slid the magazine back towards Darcy, the tip of her finger tracing the weird looking machinery on the page, "it offers instructions for building and maintaining... certain equipment. KvígR is interested in engineering."

Darcy raised a brow and the corner of her mouth.

"You're blushing. I bet it's more than just _engineering_ equipment. C'mon, spill!"

Another clearing sound and the girl turned her face to look at something vaguely interesting in the room. _Aw yeah, definitely something juicy_ , Darcy thought wickedly. She'd just have to tuck away this bit of information for later.

"So, you know my name. What's yours?" Gain her trust and hit her with it when the girl least expected. It was a proven strategy.

"My apologies, I must appear so rude. I am Alví.” The girl’s eyes twinkled with something like mischief, but Darcy couldn’t be sure. This was definitely a smart one. She thanked her stars that she wasn’t stuck with that KvígR weirdo.

“Nah, you were just distracted. I tend to have that effect on people. It’s my astounding wit and charm.” Grinning from ear to ear, she sat up a bit taller, leaned a little closer, her latent discomfort since arriving on Jötunheimr distinctly lessened.

Alví wordlessly noted Darcy’s posture and felt her spirits raise. She could see a friend in this Midgardian.

“Yes, that must be it. Your unusual pallor and sharp tongue are traits to be awed,” Alví quipped with a straight face.

A beat passed, and Darcy burst out laughing. God, it felt so good to give in to a hearty belly laugh like that.  
  
Even before she realised it, lunch was being brought to her and her new friend.  
  
“Oh shit, I missed a bunch of lecture time today. D’you think Lýðbiǫrnson will give me the stink eye? He’s got some freaky peepers on him.”

With raised brows, the giantess withdrew her utensils and started to cut into her extra rare meat. “What strange terms you have for people. I believe he will excuse your absence for this morning, but perhaps I should speak with the Healer to allow you back for the afternoon session. You should not fall too far behind.”

 _Ugh_ , Darcy groaned internally. _Playing catch-up is the last thing I need._ Out loud, she said:

"Will I get a nifty ankle bracelet to make sure I don't run off? Like those beefy crime bosses in movies — they get the sweet looking tech in all the great action flicks."

It took a second for Alví to catch her meaning, during which Darcy stuffed her face with something creamy and starchy that had to be this place's version of potatoes.

“No, I shall be your _hjálpar_ — helper, for lack of a better term. I have been assigned to keep you from further harm.”

Darcy coughed around her space potatoes, caught in a laugh. “Basically,” she said with mouth full, “I’m a klutz. Yeah, not gonna argue that.”

Her new tagalong merely smiled, a suspicious glint in her eye.

The rest of lunch was finished in companionable silence, with the promise of freedom in Darcy’s very near future.

—

By the second half of lecture, Darcy was sat at the back of the room, Alví at her left towards the corner. Lýðbiǫrnson continued to discuss the political structure, but he’d thankfully moved into the more familiar territory of how each office engages with one another. She knew this would lead to her favourite part: diplomatic relations between different peoples.

Just at the thought, she smiled and about had a nerdgasm. Her mouth may have been huge, but in tense situations, she had a damn good knack at getting people to get along.

“Miss Darcy, I see that you are quite enjoying this discussion. Would you care to offer your insights on the Consul General’s position?”

_Shit. Way to pay attention to what he’s been blabbing about. Okay, bullshitting time._

Sitting up a little straighter, she opened her mouth to answer the question.

And of course, the door opened. Who should it be but her favourite blue stalker?

He looked so proper now, not a hair out of place nor a smirk anywhere in sight. His eyes scanned the room and momentarily landed on her, but seemed to quickly flit away to some neutral point.

Her little smile grew. She’d _gotten_ to him. Good.

“My Prince,” Lýðbiǫrnson greeted with a bow. “Thank you again for your time. We were about to touch on the Consul General, but I will gladly shift to your duties, should you wish it.”

Well that sounded interesting. What exactly did the crown prince do that was more important than following people around and being snarky?

“Of course. I’m afraid that my work is rather simple — I mostly oversee our military fleet and attend garish balls. Quite dry things.” Smirky bastard.

A few of the other internship students laughed at his quip.

“Your Honour,” Darcy spoke up, “I can imagine how much of a strain your position is on your personal time. But what do you do for _fun_?"

Loki's left eyebrow started to inch up before he reeled it in. A very polished, restrained smile found his lips.

_HA._

"Taking meals with diplomats and the King and Queen offers sufficient pleasure for me. Although I must admit to the occasional round of Ice Polo to pass the time. Perhaps," and he looked at Lýðbiǫrnson with a question, "we can indoctrinate our young would-be Ambassadors in the sport."

The large Jötunn took less than a second to think it over before levelling a happy look on the students.

"I should imagine the game a difficult one for our Midgardians. What say you?"

Emile laughed and nudged Sara before speaking up. "I think we are more than up for the challenge."

A quiet intern in the back piped up with what Darcy thought might be caution in his tone:

"If the rules are sound for our species, it could prove invigorating."

Darcy turned to Prince Loki with a challenge in her gaze. "I bet I can take on Your Highness any day."

He let his posture relax just a fraction when a real smile finally broke through his polite expression.

"I believe we have successfully settled it. In one week's time, we shall have a match. In the meantime, Lýðbiǫrnson, if you would be so kind as to apprise our intrepid group of the rules? I wish for them to know every aspect of the game so they can appreciate their loss that much more."

 _Smirky **and** cocky bastard_ , Darcy thought before she laughed aloud. "You're so on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick translation:  
> \- "Helper", or better defined as servant.


End file.
